


help me (kiss it better)

by Hugabug



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Caretaking, Chronic Pain, Gen, Happy Ending, Illnesses, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: Breathing hard, [Zach] murmurs; “I can’t live like this.”Eugene’s breath hitches, something sharp in the haze. “I know,” he says, trying so hard to sound nonchalant. Failing to hide the crack in his last word. “I’m sorry.”





	help me (kiss it better)

**Author's Note:**

> anon: "Hi I’m sorry I just really like your zagene writing and I had a thought while watching some of their videos. I believe the demolition derby was before Zach learned about his autoimmune disease and I was thinking what if during that shoot he hurt his back so badly he had to go to the hospital and that’s where he learned of his disease. It could just be a big zagene for together moment and some angst and fluff. Again love your writing and I hope you have a wonderful day ❤️"
> 
> anon: “ahhh if ur still taking prompts, can u maybe write smth fluffy about the first time zach took his meds and eugene was there to hold his hand and help him? sorry if ur not taking prompts, im just in love with ur writing! and thank u for blessing us with wonderful zagene and shyan. we dont deserve u.”
> 
> im not particularly proud of this one, but people have said that i should put it up here so here it is.

His body feels gripped, tension emanating from his lower back, taut, like a hand is clenched around it, tight and firm, refusing to let go.

“You ok?”

Zach hisses, a long pull of air from between his teeth, and the sound brings Eugene’s hand up to play with his hair, running fingers through it in a comforting manner. Zach appreciates it, he really does, but being doted on so early in the morning after such a discouraging afternoon yesterday makes something in his chest clench uncomfortably and without thinking, he tries to get up, only for his back to send a wave of sharp, sharp pain across his body so strong, a gasp leaves his mouth.

Eugene stills, “Babe?” he asks, shifting out of instinct. Zach, who has his cheek pressed to his clothed chest, whimpers at the movement, another jolt of pain igniting from the back of his neck and ending at his hips. “What’s wrong?”

“Back.” is all Zach could manage to say, shutting his eyes tight as tears begin to smart at the corners. “Back’s bad. Can’t move.”

“Ok, um–” Eugene fidgets for a bit, slipping out from under Zach carefully. “I’m going to flip you over, ok?” Zach nods his head. “It’s going to hurt.”

A whine escapes him– not the sexy kind, but the kind that you would probably hear in the throes of death– and it turns into a half-bit out shout of pain when Eugene lifts him and gracefully gets him on his back. It’s gentle, nothing about it is malicious or has the intention to hurt, but the shock that overcomes his body activates that part of his mind that puts his walls right up. He beats them down, fights that instinctual urge to lash out, because Eugene doesn’t deserve cutting snark after all that he’s done, so he bites his lip and bears it all, twisting fingers in the sheets as sharp daggers drag their blades down the curve of his spine.

Breathing hard, he murmurs; “I can’t live like this.”

Eugene’s breath hitches, something sharp in the haze. “I know,” he says, trying so hard to sound nonchalant. Failing to hide the crack in his last word. “I’m sorry.”

They stay like that for the rest of the morning, Eugene hovering and Zach still. Neither say much– all their words fail, and when Zach can finally move again, Eugene helps him to the kitchen. They have breakfast at noon.

* * *

Eugene is worried.

He doesn’t like being worried.

There’s an uncomfortable feeling, just at the bottom of his belly, churning and eating away at his thoughts and hindering most, if not all, his movement 24/7. Jitters is probably a good word for it, but he hates it and he hates what it does to him, so he refuses to acknowledge it, fights it with every drop of energy he has, and tries very hard to focus on what’s right in front of him.

It’s probably not a good coping mechanism, but it’s the only one he’s got. He’s sticking with it.

“That’s the third coffee you turned down today, if you hate the intern just say so.”

“I don’t–” he begins, before sighing, bring a hand up to scrub at the day old stubble he has peppering his chin. In front of him, Kelsey raises an eyebrow, so attuned to his bullshit that she can see right through him. “I’m fine.”

“This is so cute,” she coos, rolling her eyes. “You’re starting to sound like each other, too.”

He flips her off, because it’s what they do, but this time, she doesn’t flip him off right back. Her fingers taps against her phone, a rhythm taking shape after a few moment’s silence, and Eugene focuses on that, timing his breathing to the beat.

“I get it.” she says, finally, startling Eugene out of his reverie. He looks up at her and she’s staring at him, face uncharacteristically serious. “It’s hard and it’s difficult. I get it. If you need an outlet or someone to talk to, I’m here. The alcohol is here. Heck, Zach it there. You can talk to him, too, dumbass. Just… don’t let him feel like a burden.”

Eugene lets out a breath, feeling the gust of air puff out his cheeks and escape past his lips. “I want it to go away.” he says, thinking of the churning in his stomach, the pain on Zach’s face that morning, the sleepless nights, the tears in the bathroom when he thinks Eugene can’t hear him. “It’s not fair.”

Kelsey releases a deep sigh, mirroring his own. She looks tired, more so than usual, and Eugene remembers that she didn’t get sleep last night, either. Suddenly, he feels really foolish.

“I’m sorry,” he says, before he can even stop himself. The words are sincere, and he means them, he really does. But he knows it isn’t something she wants to hear.

“Fuck you,” she replies, no heat behind it. A moment later, she’s smiling again, smaller than usual and a little subdued, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “I hope you know, I’m glad he has you.”

“That’s misplaced.”

“You’re an idiot then.” she shrugs, gathering her things and getting up. “Anyway. I’m going to get my weed card.”

It isn’t funny, but Eugene laughs anyway, the sound exploding out of his mouth and making everybody’s head turn. That earns him a ruffle through his impeccable hair and when he swipes her hand out of the way, she flips him off, because it’s what they do.

The weight in his chest is a lot lighter now, though, so he doesn’t complain when she does it again before leaving.

* * *

 A hundred doctors appointments and he’s grown weary of them all, hearing the same thing over and over again, gaining that fleeting hope when he swallows another new cocktail of pain killers only for that same hope to disappear when nothing changes. He’s frustrated and snappy and he’s waking up in the middle of the night, jostling Eugene and making it practically impossible for both of them a good night’s sleep.

And Eugene’s patience makes it worse, somehow. It’s not an instinct that comes naturally to him, Zach knows this. It’s not that he isn’t grateful– he is. And every day he reminds himself that his boyfriend deserves a fucking medal for putting up with his whining all day long. But Eugene isn’t the most nurturing person and neither is he one who likes to be in constant worry, and this situation calls for both. Even if he thinks he’s being subtle, it’s obvious to Zach. Eugene doesn’t know what to do with himself– he’s forgetting things, he’s messing up edits, he’s snippy with interns, and he’s more sarcastic than usual with the higher ups. Quinta and Jazz had to put him in his place at least twice this week. 

And it hasn’t come to a point where that attitude has been directed at Zach, but sooner or later, Zach is sure, it will be, and resulting the strain could start to create cracks in their relationship. He dreads the day that it does.

He keeps that to himself, though.

“You have another appointment today.”

Zach wants to cry. “I think I’ll go to this one on my own.”

Eugene pauses, looking up from his lunch, a frown on his face. “Oh… kay?” he says, unsure of himself and the words coming out of his mouth. “Are you sure? I can take half a work day off for you if you like.”

“I’m fine.”

It’s a whole lot colder than it should’ve been. Angrier. He knows the second that it comes out of his mouth that he should take them back, but… He tilts his head to the side, immediately righting it when a something electric and sharp lances up the nape of his neck.

He’s tired.

They continue work in silence, and he and Eugene don’t talk to each other until Zach has to leave to see his doctor.

* * *

At some point, he’d begun shouting.

He can’t breathe, and _fuck it_ he can’t see past the blur in his eyes, either. In the back of his mind he knows that this is probably really rude and that maybe he shouldn’t scream at people who are just trying to keep him alive, but those thoughts have no room in the pain he’s living in day by day. He doesn’t care. He can’t sleep. He can’t work. He can’t even _talk_ to his boyfriend properly he just– he _can’t_ –

“I’m not ok.” he croaks, feeling something wet and warm trickle down his face. He wipes it away. “I can’t live like this anymore.”

His doctor nods, chastised. And gives him a recommendation.

* * *

 “You didn’t sleep again, did you?”

Zach smiles, though it’s a really small one, and Eugene can tell he’s trying very hard to make everything seem just fine. But Eugene sees through it, and with a look over his shoulder to make sure no one else in the office is watching, he steps up, taking Zach’s coffee cup before slipping an arm around his waist.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, almost in a whisper. Zach shakes his head, dismissive, but the shadows under his eyes can’t be hidden. Eugene lifts a hand to thumb at them. He only does it for so long, though, before Zach dodges his hand and waves away, once again, any concern about the stiffness holding his body together.

“I have another appointment tomorrow.” he says as he moves away from Eugene, yawning just a bit.

“You just came from one yesterday.”

“This is a new one. Somewhere across town. Can you… um.” he pauses, sheepish. “I mean, if you want to.”

“I’ll go.” Eugene tells him, without hesitation. He wants to step into Zach’s space again, but the other man is stubborn, slightly ashamed of his own afflictions, so Eugene doesn’t push. He stays where he is, a solid foundation, because that’s what Zach needs right now. “I’ll be there.”

Zach’s smile widens, grateful. “Ok,” he breathes out, surging forward to give Eugene a peck on the lips. “Thank you.”

* * *

The next week goes by really, really fast.

He gets his diagnosis and it should be scary, but the relief he feels deep in his bones spreads across his body like a shot of some really euphoric alcohol, warm and intoxicating and so, so good. He’s _sick_ , that’s all he can think. He’s sick but he can be _fixed_.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, hands falling from the keys in the ignition and into his lap, shaking. Next to him, Eugene looks over in concern. “I’m– It’s– I was _right_.”

He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Eugene pulls him into the crook of his neck. “I was _right_ , Gene.”

“I know,” Eugene soothes, the words whispered directly into his ear. “I know.”

* * *

"We can take it now.”

Eugene eyes the device the doctor is holding in his hand before turning all his attention to Zach. He looks a little pale– not too bad. Just a normal amount of pale any person would be when confronted with the promise of pain. Still, Eugene doesn’t like it, so he reaches over and squeezes the other man’s hand in his.

Zach takes a deep breath. “Ok,” he nods to the doctor. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

The doctor demonstrates to them the steps, cleaning his abdomen with an alcohol swab before pinching a portion of it between index finger and thumb. On the count of three, the needle is pressed in, and Zach lets out a long hiss of pain. Eugene squeezes his hand in support, his eyes on the liquid draining rapidly out of the device.

After a moment, it’s over, and Zach exhales a mighty heave.

“All done.” the doctor tells them, turning away to put the discarded shot away. When he isn’t looking, Eugene edges closer and presses a kiss to Zach’s cheek.

“You ok?” he asks.

Zach flushes, but smiles. “I’m better than.”

Eugene wants to kiss him again, but the doctor turns around, so he squeezes his hand instead.

* * *

“I’m sorry about the other day.”

Eugene pries his eyes open to see a slightly charred pancake on Zach’s side of the bed. It’s on a plate, of course, but seeing it there startles him nonetheless, and he jolts up, narrowly missing his boyfriend’s head along the way.

The gesture makes Zach stumble back, just a little bit, but also coaxes a laugh out of him, a carefree sound that Eugene thinks he hasn’t heard in weeks. It’s a good sound. Eugene’s sleep adled brain finds that he likes that sound very much.

“Wha–?” he murmurs, scrubbing his eyes awake.

“I said ‘I’m sorry for snapping at you the other day’,” Zach repeats, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Eugene feels something in his chest loosen. “Apology accepted.”

There’s a tray of breakfast stuffs on Eugene’s bed side table, all of them impeccably done, and a cup of iced coffee waiting by his reading lamp. It all looks good and Eugene stares for a moment before turning back to Zach, who, in his opinion, looks _so much_ _more_ enticing than the food waiting for his consumption.

“You’re feeling better.” he says, a laugh sort of bubbling up and distorting the way he says ‘better’. He feels the jitters coming back, but they’re lighter, now. Happier.

“I haven’t felt this good since… I don’t know, since I was a kid?” Zach smiles, rolling his head back to demonstrate. “It’s… I’m just so glad it’s finally over.” he pauses, a slight frown on his face. “But I’m still sorry I snapped at you.”

Eugene grins, reaching over to cup the other man’s face in his hands. They’re large and they basically engulf all of Zach’s cheeks, but it leaves just enough space for him to fit his mouth over his boyfriend’s in a languid, good morning kiss. It isn’t at the best angle, and it could’ve been done after he had gotten rid of his morning breath, but Zach kisses back just as enthusiastically so Eugene couldn’t really care less.

“I can make it up to you,” Zach says, when they pull away for air.

Eugene grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Zach laughs, relief in his tone. “After I feed the dogs.”

“The _babies_.”

“The _babies_ ,” his boyfriend repeats, rolling his eyes before tipping forward to kiss him again. Eugene smiles against his lips. “You’re soft in the mornings, have I ever told you that?”

Their foreheads are pressed together, and from this angle, Eugene has a front row seat to the blue of Zach’s eyes. He’s smiling so wide, the lines of his face smoothed away by relief and Eugene likes it that way. He really, _really_ likes it that way.

“Yeah,” Eugene breathes, kissing Zach again. “Only for you.”

(They still eat breakfast at noon. But for a whole new reason.)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](en-sam-malas.tumblr.com)  
> [tumblr ver.](http://en-sam-malas.tumblr.com/post/169965231090/hi-im-sorry-i-just-really-like-your-zagene)  
>  buzzfeed don't interact


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